


Expanded Horizons

by atlanxic



Category: Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: Hand Jobs, M/M, Trans Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-08
Updated: 2017-12-08
Packaged: 2019-02-12 05:31:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12952365
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/atlanxic/pseuds/atlanxic
Summary: "Very well," Owain concedes. "But try to keep it in mind! Both about broadening your horizons and about naming your moves!"





	Expanded Horizons

Inigo supposes it's his own fault. He was usually more on guard when he practiced, but that night, with the moon shining bright and the breeze providing a perfect counterpoint to a hot and humid night, well. He lost track of his surroundings, a bit.

Owain provides an unpleasant awakening. "Woah, Inigo!" he exclaims, sitting wide-legged on a boulder at the edge of the clearing. "I had heard you could dance but to think you're a master of the art! Even I am impressed."

"What do you mean even you, you have all the grace of a bull in a china shop," Inigo snaps, bringing his arms down quickly. "And besides, I'm hardly a master of the art."

"You certainly are!" Owain counters, standing up dramatically. "I can feel my warrior's blood surging at the sight of you! It's.. getting hard to control!"

"Oh calm down," Inigo says. "You'll wake the whole camp up with your shouting."

"Hey, you know what I bet would make you feel better about your dancing?" Owain says, loud and undeterred. Inigo braces himself. "If you named your signature moves!"

"Absolutely not," Inigo snaps.

He sighs. "Let's just go back to camp, I don't think I'll be able to get back to practicing now."

"No!" Owain shouts, and stands up to block his path. "You move with such passion, such grace, surely movements like yours deserve to have proper titles!"

Inigo blushes. "Why are you laying it on so thick?"

"I speak only the righteous truth!" Owain exclaims. "Come now, let's start with this one."

To Inigo's horror, Owain raises his arm and mimics one of his earlier movements, clumsily but still recognizable.

"What do you think of 'Nina's Grace'?" Owain asks, clearly excited.

"Who the hell is Nina?" Inigo asks.

"Ok, then how about, 'The Swan's Romance'?"

"No, no, that's not the point," Inigo tells him. "The point is, I don't need to name my moves."

"Oh, what about, 'Fallen Mistress: Everlasting'?"

"What does that even mean!" Inigo snaps.

"Well what would you call it, then?" Owain asks.

"'Reaching for the pinnacle', if I had to pick," Inigo says without thinking. Owain's eyes light up. Inigo realizes his mistake.

"So you have thought about it!" Owain exclaims, and points at him. "That's a beautiful name!"

"It's not, shut up!" Inigo says.

"Ok, what about this one?" Owain asks, and repeats another one of Inigo's steps.

Inigo realizes with some degree of shame-induced vertigo that Owain must have been watching him for at least an hour to have seen it.

"H-How long have you been watching me?" he asks.

Owain actually pauses for a moment, and then strikes a pose. "I entirely lost track of time, I was entranced by your elegance."

"How can you say lines like that with a straight face!" Inigo shouts, flushing. "And besides that, since when do you swing that way! I'll have you know that I don't."

"I didn't mean it that way," Owain starts. "But you should be more open to new experiences! There is nothing to better enrich the life of a hero than to experience all that he can!"

"I don't even want to know what you've been up to," Inigo says, deflating a bit. "Please, let's just go back to camp."

"Very well," Owain concedes. "But try to keep it in mind! Both about broadening your horizons and about naming your moves!"

\---

Inigo vows to put both of those things out of his mind, but he fails to do so, spectacularly. As he practices his dancing, he starts referring to the motions by names. Simple names, practical ones. Certainly nothing that Owain would be impressed by.

He's in the middle of a sideturn flourish when he notices Owain staring at him, again.

"How long have you been there?" he asks, shooting Owain a wary glance.

"You headed my advice after all!" Owain exclaims. "Sideturn flourish! Extended lunge! Double-spin!"

Inigo wants to sink into the ground. "Stop!" he shouts. "Please shut your mouth, for one minute."

"They're good names," Owain says, warmly. "Sturdy and efficient."

"Thanks," Inigo says, not really knowing what else to say.

"Did you put due consideration into my other sage words of advice?" Owain asks, taking a step into Inigo's personal space. Inigo's pride refuses to let him step back.

"When have sage words ever tumbled from your mouth?" Inigo says.

"I am not hearing a no," Owain says. "Would you do me the honour of allowing a kiss?"

Inigo blushes, looks away. He should say no. He should definitely be telling Owain off for even thinking it.

Instead, he allows Owain to bring a hand to his jawline, tilting his chin up slightly.

Owain kisses him.

His lips are chapped, and he has just the beginnings of stubble on his chin. It is utterly impossible to pretend he's another one of the girls who had fallen for Inigo's charms.

Inigo doesn't close his eyes, instead taking note of the way Owain's pale eyelashes fall against his cheeks.

Owain pulls back, just a couple inches.

He grins. "Surely a well-experienced man such as yourself can put forth a better showing than that," he taunts.

Inigo takes a step back. "Is that a challenge?"

"As sure as the moon is bright," Owain replies, grinning.

Inigo spins and dips, and then raises his knee as he leans back into Owain's space, both hands on his chest. Owain catches his thigh, smiles, and closes the distance between them.

This kiss leaves Inigo no time to admire Owain's features. Their lips slide together. He can feel Owain's breath against his cheek, Owain's stubble against his chin, Owain's hands: one holding up his leg and the other against the small of his back.

He opens his mouth, Owain licks his lips. Inigo bites is tongue gently, and is surprised to hear a small pleased sound pass Owain's lips. Surprised as well by how much he wants to hear more of it.

Inigo brings his hands up to the back of Owain's head, fingers brushing through short hair. Owain licks into his mouth again, and this time, he allows it. Allows, too, Owain's hand on his waist dipping lower.

He thinks things might be getting out of hand when Owain breaks their kiss to nose at the side of his jawline. He knows he's in over his head when Owain bites down at his neck, when he hears his own quiet and startled moan.

"You like that?" Owain asks, voice just a step rougher than usual.

Inigo thinks he should say no, but desperately wants to tell Owain yes, do that again. He compromises by tilting his head back in a silent invitation. Owain smiles like a fox that's just found its prey.

His kisses at Inigo's neck are greedy, and so too are his roaming hands. "How I've longed to do this," he murmurs into Inigo's collar.

Inigo is caught off-guard, yet again. "Wh- For how long?"

Owain pulls away to make eye contact and says, "Since times immemorial."

Inigo flushes. Again with the lines, again with Owain saying them with the most bright and earnest expression on his face. How is he supposed to deal with this?

Owain reaches to grab Inigo's other leg. Inigo almost topples over, saved only by the fact that his hands are already about Owain's neck. He finds himself lifted, and quickly wraps his legs around Owain's body as well, more in an instinct to avoid falling on his ass than anything else.

Owain grins and kisses him again, just quickly. Inigo realizes with some degree of horror that Owain is getting hard, that he can clearly feel it pressed between their bodies.

Owain walks to the clearing's edge, and Inigo finds his back against a tree. Owain kisses him again, and grinds his hips roughly against Inigo's own. Inigo is embarrassed to note how his thighs wrap tighter around Owain's body, how his fingers curl in Owain's hair.

Owain grunts softly as he presses his mouth to Inigo's neck once more. Inigo realizes that he's going to have to wear a scarf for the next week, and makes a mental note to kick Owain's ass when this is over.

It can wait, though. Right now, it's easy to lose himself in the sensations. Owain's large hands on his thighs, so high up now as to almost be on his ass. Owain's teeth scraping gently against his neck. Owain's body pressed hot and tight against his own. Inigo knows he's moaning, but can't find the strength of mind to care.

"Hey," Owain says, pulling back just slightly to look Inigo in the eyes. Owain's hips still, but Inigo can't quite stop himself from grinding back a couple more times.

"You're enjoying this, right?" Owain asks, with none of his usual bravado.

"I-" Inigo isn't prepared for the sudden sincerity, isn't prepared to answer in kind.

"I think that should be clear," he replies, hoping it will be answer enough.

"No, seriously," Owain insists. His earnest and determined gaze is somehow more intense than anything else that Inigo has endured that evening.

"I, yeah," Inigo admits.

"Ok, it's just," Owain starts. "I figured you'd be hard too, by now."

Inigo feels like a bucket of ice water has been dumped over his head. He doesn't quite meet Owain's eyes when he says, "I don't have that equipment."

Owain stares at him for a moment, and then nods. "Alright," he says.

Inigo blinks a few times. Alright? That's alright?

"Do you want to keep going?" Owain asks.

"..Yeah," Inigo replies. "Yeah, I do."

Owain grins like he's won a prize, and when he leans in to kiss Inigo again, Inigo meets him halfway.

"Do you want to come back to my tent?" Inigo asks.

"Nothing would make me happier," Owain replies.

They sneak back into camp like teenagers avoiding a curfew, holding hands all the while. Owain whips his shirt off as soon as they're inside, and Inigo has seen Owain shirtless before, but he's never allowed himself to appreciate it as he does right now, even as it takes a couple moments for their eyes to adjust to the darkness.

Inigo leaves his own shirt on, but when Owain shucks his pants, he decides he should, too.

Owain sits down, and Inigo takes the liberty of straddling his lap. They're pressed torso to torso, with only the thin fabric of Inigo's shirt and their underwear between them.

Inigo lets his hands wander, this time. Owain's back is broad and well-muscled under his fingers, and he shudders slightly as Inigo runs his fingers up his spine.

Owain places his hands at the small of Inigo's back, and then, as they kiss, lets them slide lower and lower.

As one of his hands circles around to Inigo's hip, Inigo realizes that they're really going to do this, do more than just kiss. He wasn't expecting his blood to race at the thought of it. He kisses Owain harder.

Owain slides his hand into Inigo's underwear. The angle is awkward at best, but that doesn't deter him. Inigo is already slick with anticipation as Owain's fingers slide over his folds.

Inigo leans back, breathing heavy. Owain makes eye contact with him, teasing Inigo with his rough fingers.

"How can I make this good for you?" he asks.

"I, uh," Inigo takes a moment to gather his thoughts. "It's ok if you want to put your fingers inside me," he says, and he's flushing deeply, but he doesn't break eye contact. Doesn't want to.

Owain does as he's told. First just one, and after a few moments of little resistance, of Inigo murmuring encouragement, another.

Inigo rolls his hips against Owain's hand. His eye's slide shut of their own accord. His hands grasp and scramble against Owain's back.

"You're beautiful," Owain tells him.

Inigo's eyes fly open. Owain doesn't still his fingers as he continues. "I mean, you're always beautiful, but right now I think I've never seen anything better."

Inigo opens his mouth to complain, but all that comes out is a low moan. With the heel of Owain's hand pressed against his clit and three fingers inside, Inigo comes.

Coming back down from his orgasm, he grasps at Owain's wrist, a silent plea for him to stop. Owain gets the idea and withdraws his hand. His other hand strokes through Inigo's hair.

Inigo resists the urge to simply collapse against Owain's chest.

He sits up, runs his hands down Owain's chest, over his stomach. "Let me return the favour," he says, surprising even himself with how sultry his voice sounds.

To his surprise, Owain gets flustered.

"You don't have to," he says. "I'm happy enough with just this."

"I want to," Inigo says. He hadn't realized until the words pass his lips just how true they are.

"I, uh, alright," Owain murmurs. He leans back, resting his weight on his hands behind him.

Inigo reaches down to pull Owain's cock free. It's warm in his hand. He's surprised to find it already a bit wet at the tip. He strokes it gently a couple times, and then picks up the pace.

The sound of Owain's gasps and moans falls into the rhythm of Inigo's hand. Inigo watches, transfixed, as Owain loses his composure under his hands.

It's over all too soon. Owain comes across Inigo's shirt, and that's a second thing he'll have to answer for later, but not now.

Right now, Owain flops onto his back, still panting. Inigo takes his shirt off with some hesitation, and lies down on top of him. Owain wraps one arm around his waist. It doesn't take long for them both to fall asleep.


End file.
